Ever-changing Stability

January 25, 2013 § 1 Comment

Willows blowing hay-wire

Sun setting in to the winter’s dry

Cold winds

All that is left, is a chilling shrill

 

Yet we hold on

Cling to the warmth

Because that is how we can survive

In the cold cold sight

 

This is harsh harsh truth

piercing through the delicate blues

And yet we refuse to see how it looks

Clinging to the everlasting good.

 

It surfeits.

The sun needs to set to rise.

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